


Do You Love Me?

by anxiouss_princess



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Angry Lyra, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confrontations, Dad Lord Asriel, Dadriel, Emotions, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family Fights, Family Issues, Fights, Gen, Missing Scene, One Shot, Soft Lord Asriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:07:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21829471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiouss_princess/pseuds/anxiouss_princess
Summary: Lyra gets a bit confrontational with Asriel after their reunion and starts giving him a piece of her mind. Missing scene from episode 7.
Relationships: Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98





	Do You Love Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Did somebody say DADRIEL ANGST with a side of SOFT ASRIEL FEELS?! 
> 
> Oh wait... nobody? Oh well, I'll give it to y'all anyway lol. 
> 
> (Also please be gentle w me, I'm new to the fandom and this is my first fic here akjsakjskjs)

Lyra could feel herself bristling in anger, hot red filling her vision. She clenched her fists together, feeling her fingernails digging into her palms as her knuckles went white, jutting out from how hard she was digging. 

“You were happier to see _Roger_ than you were to see _me_ ,” Lyra bit out harshly. She could hear her voice echo throughout the small room they were in, and in her peripheral vision she noticed Asriel’s head snap over in her direction. She turned her neck to meet his gaze, respectively. There was something she saw in his face that wasn’t normally there, but she paid no mind. “After I came all this way—for _you_!” Asriel didn’t respond to this initial angry outburst, just remained sitting where he was, continuing to stare at her, so she continued. “I’ve been all over the damn place, meeting Gyptians, witches, armored polar bears, I even fell out of a _bloody hot air balloon_ just not too long ago—”

“You _what?!”_ Asriel’s voice was suddenly loud and present as he hoisted himself up to his feet, much to Lyra’s surprise. Judging by his voice and face he even seemed surprised himself… maybe something else too that Lyra couldn’t quite place. 

“Yeah, I genuinely don’t know how I survived that…”

“You _fell out_ of a _hot air balloon?!_ When was this?” his brows were furrowed together, making his forehead crease and his face look… stressed. But he couldn’t be stressed, Lyra thought to herself. Why would he care?

“Why would _you_ care? When have you _ever_ cared?” she spit out, a lot more bitterly than she intended. Maybe the fall did more of a number on her than she thought, because she could almost have sworn, she noticed Asriel slightly flinch. “You act like me coming here was some appalling thing, as if you can barely stand the sight of me! Hardly paid me any mind as I was growing up,” Lyra’s voice was getting louder and more voluminous as she spoke, each word getting sharper and jagged around its edges. They were scratching up her own throat as each word escaped her lips. “Why did you even keep me, anyway?” 

Asriel’s eyes widened slightly, head lifting at this question she suddenly put out there. “What?” was all he was able to muster. Lyra barely noticed that this was slightly out of character for him to be so pliant—he normally would have ignored her or left the room by now, she thought to herself passingly. 

“Why didn’t you let Mrs. Coulter’s husband _kill me?”_ she almost stopped herself when she saw Asriel visibly paling as his hands collapsed down on the table to support himself—but Lyra’s anger was only getting redder and hotter. “Do you regret it?” she almost couldn’t recognize how cold and detached her own voice sounded to herself—how cruel, even. 

Asriel was looking down at his hands now, trying to focus on his breathing and stay steady on his feet. And pretend that Lyra’s words weren’t small daggers chipping away at his cold exterior he’d always struggled to put on in front of her. But that day had already been hard—so Lyra speaking right now was only further melting his forced façade away as she continued. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears mixed along with the sentences stringing out of her mouth. 

“Come on, _Uncle,”_ she put a harsh emphasis on the word purposefully, her face looking hard and far too malicious for a child’s face. “You _rue_ the day I was born— admit it! Maybe I should have just let the Oblation Board split Pan and I up, you’d be put out of your misery and wouldn’t have to look so disgusted with my presence right now.”

Asriel thought he was going to throw up. Or that one of his lungs was about to collapse—he felt his chest constricting as if heavy bricks laid upon him and were weighing him down. He felt an involuntary hitch in his breath as his hands and arms started to shake. _Breathe, just breathe._

Lyra could feel the anger eating up at her now. New thoughts and buzzing angry words filled her head that she’s always wanted to say but never got the chance to because he was just never there. She thought, _well this is it. This is where I can unleash everything and unload myself._ “Every night before I would go to sleep, I’d look at your post card that you sent me. I had it right next to my bed, not that you ever noticed or cared enough to look. One of the few times you’ve ever shown me … I don’t even know _what_ the word is, because I know for damn sure that you do not _love_ me.” She found herself standing right in front of him now, both at opposing sides of the table.

Asriel was still clutching onto it for dear life as his staggered breathing kept disobeying him, closing his eyes in frustration. Another unsteady breath hissed out of his lips as if he had just been punched in the ribs. “Lyra…” his voice was hoarse and completely wrecked, and it almost snapped Lyra out of her anger. Almost. 

“Don’t do that,” she chided, a look of contempt replacing her anger for a moment. “Pretend that you… I don’t know, are _bloody human,”_ her words got more clipped and vicious as she spit them out and leaned herself against the table to Asriel. “A _polar bear_ has shown me more love than you have,” she hissed at him. Each word was like a bullet that lodged into his heart, that kept beating madly as he could feel it vibrating his whole body. “I love a polar bear more than I love _you_.” As she bit out her last word through gritted teeth, she forced both of her hands on his shoulders, which was enough to knock the wind out of his already unstable form as he collapsed to the ground. 

His mind was swimming, all he could hear were Lyra’s spiteful words ringing in his head on repeat and in a painful echo that gave him a headache, along with heartache. A gust of air wheezed from his chapped lips as he struggled to hold it in, but it morphed itself into a broken sob that made his entire body tremble. He squeezed his eyes shut in mortification as hot tears spilled from his closed eyelids that left fresh wet streams coating his cheeks, dripping down his face. He felt breathless, and trying to suck in some air only resulted in him choking on it and making his vision blur as more tears filled his eyes. 

Lyra felt all her anger dissipate in seconds— anything regarding the emotion died and crumbled away as she saw Asriel on the floor sobbing. Now all she felt was pure horror and sadness. She felt herself automatically going to Asriel and crouching down to the floor by his side. “No, no, no… I’m sorry,” her voice was soft, expression only showing concern—her big brown eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry,” her tone was slightly panicked, alarmed at the state he was in as he continued to cry beside her, head downcast. Her heart hurt—a slow dull ache as when he looked up at her, his eyes were full of tears, face raw and vulnerable; something she has never seen him show her before. This was all very foreign to her. 

Lyra frowned, feeling like she could start crying as well. She even started experiencing a slight lump in her throat as Asriel let out a shaky breath, shaking his head. “Please stop crying…” she pleaded, her eyes showing none of the venom they did before. It was all warmth and affection. “I don’t like seeing you like this.” 

“I never knew…” Asriel started to croak, having this contemplative look on his face as if he were deep in thought, “I never knew that mere _words_ could hurt that much,” he tried to say it passively and in a detached sort of state, but a few new tears betrayed him as they slipped down his face. He laughed humorlessly. 

Lyra’s stomach practically lurched into her throat. “I didn’t mean it, I swear …” her eyes started welling with her own tears, her voice cracking on the last couple of words. “I love you as much as I love Pan,” the emotion laid heavy on her phrases and her voice as tears were now on her face. “I was just angry… I’m sorry.” 

“I don’t blame you,” he admitted, wiping at his face harshly, “I haven’t been the best to you, have I? Yet you still love me,” he muttered the last sentence almost in disbelief to himself, in a light hiss as a look of shock or wonder lit up his face. But he shook it off, shaking his head violently. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Do you love me?”

Asriel’s head shot up at her as he tried to hide the look of surprise from the suddenness of such a question. She merely stared at him with a childish curiosity—still open and loving, no anger or viciousness to her tone. “Of course, I do…” he felt his eyes betraying him again as they started to sting. 

“Then you do deserve it.” 


End file.
